


In Hell

by ereshai



Series: Check, Please! 13 Days of Halloween 2016 [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 13 Days of Halloween, Demons, Hell, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: Hell isn't necessarily fire and brimstone.





	

“Bittle, on the ice.”

Bitty hopped over the wall and right into a play. The other players towered over him, zooming past him as he spun and dodged. He couldn’t tell his own teammates from the opposition. Where was the puck?

A hard shove sent him into the boards. “You think _you_ can play hockey?” A sneering voice said. “Get back in the kitchen, mama’s boy.”

By the time Bitty recovered, the other player was gone. For a moment, he’d thought it was Ransom speaking. But there was no way – Ransom was his friend.

He spotted a knot of players across the ice, fighting for possession of the puck. Which goal was his? Neither goalie looked like Chowder and their jerseys were too similar. That wasn’t right.

“Head in the game, Bittle,” Coach yelled. “Or are you too busy thinking about the next pie you’re going to bake?”

Bitty gaped, unable to move. Another player skated up to him; Bitty didn’t recognize him.

“Keep skating, or it’ll get worse.” He grabbed Bitty and pulled him toward the scrum. There were way too many players on the ice.

“What’s going on?” Bitty finally found his voice.

“Just take your punishment,” the other player said. “It’s what we deserve.”

“Punishment? For what?” But the other player was gone.

“Disgusting.” There was no mistaking that voice – Shitty. Bitty turned to him in relief.

“Shitty, what-“

“Look at that. In front of everyone. No shame.”

Shitty was pointing at two players on the edge of the fight. They held each other tenderly, their heads as close together as their helmets would allow.

“Someone should take care of that.” As he spoke, two large players skated toward the embracing men at full speed and crashed into them, sending them flying across the ice in opposite directions. “Good work, boys.”

“Is that…?” The two enforcers looked like Ransom and Holster, but that was impossible.

“Who else?” Shitty said cheerfully.

The voice might belong to Shitty, but the words didn’t, couldn’t. Bitty stared at him, taking in the leering grin on his face that revealed a row of pointed teeth. His eyes gleamed a dull red.

“You’re not my friend Shitty. Who are you? What’s going on?” Bitty backed away slowly. The Ransom and Holster lookalikes were watching him with their red, red eyes.

“We’ve found that a friendly face really helps to ease the transition,” not-Shitty said. “It’s not completely altruistic. I mean, we do get something out of it.” His grin sharpened.

“What do you mean?” Bitty’s voice wobbled.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. So,” not-Shitty said suddenly, clapping his hands together. His nails were long and jagged. “Get settled in. We’re going to get started soon.”

He skated away. Not-Ransom and not-Holster followed him, though they kept eye contact with Bitty as they moved away. Not-Holster licked his lips and mouthed ‘soon’.

The fight stopped abruptly. The players, each one identically dressed, got to their feet and began to skate around aimlessly, knocking into Bitty occasionally as if they didn’t see him there in the middle of the ice. Some of them had tails and leathery wings sprouting from the backs of their jerseys.

“What do I do?” Bitty whispered helplessly. The players closest to him laughed.

Bitty sprinted for the benches, dodging jeering skaters. As fast as he was going, he wasn’t getting any closer. Eventually he slowed to a stop, panting heavily. He should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Bitty.” Another familiar voice.

“No,” Bitty said, closing his eyes. _Not him_.

“Bitty, look at me.”

“Please,” Bitty whispered. _Not Jack_.

The person leaned in and said in Bitty’s ear, “We have to hurry. I don’t have long. Open your eyes.”

Bitty knew he shouldn’t hope, but the hope was there anyway. Maybe… He opened his eyes.

Jack stood in front of him, worry all over his face. His eyes were blue, with not a hint of red.

“Is it really you, Jack?” He gasped. “Oh no, are you trapped here too?”

“No time to explain,” Jack said. He took Bitty’s hand. “Listen, Bitty. _You don’t deserve this_. Do you understand?”

“What?”

“I need you to say it and believe it. You don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Bitty repeated. He believed that, he did. But there was maybe a small part of him, a part instilled in him by his upbringing in Georgia, that believed he did. The skating demons started to circle them.

“Again, Bitty. You need to mean it.”

“I don’t deserve this.” His voice was stronger this time. The demons crowded closer, but no one tried to touch them.

“Once more.” Jack took Bitty’s face in his hands and kissed him softly. “Please,” he whispered. “Come back to me.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

A bright light filled Bitty’s vision and he closed his eyes as he held on to Jack for dear life.

“Jack, you beaut! You found him,” Shitty – the real Shitty, it had to be – crowed.

Bitty opened his eyes. He was in the living room of the Haus. Jack was hovering over him.

“Jack Zimmermann, I think you just saved my mortal soul, and I surely appreciate it, but I better not be laying on that awful green couch.”

Jack burst out laughing and then leaned in to give Bitty a lingering kiss.

 


End file.
